


For the First Time the Past is in the Past

by NightCourt_HighLady



Series: A Court of Lyrics and Melodies [5]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-24 23:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9793226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightCourt_HighLady/pseuds/NightCourt_HighLady
Summary: Modern AU.Feyre runs away from her boyfriends Connecticut manor to have a day of freedom in New York City. In a cafe, she meets a Tall, Dark, and Handsome businessman named Rhysand Alecto.Mentions of physical abuse and a slight suggestion of sexual abuse.Songfic for Begin Again by Taylor Swift (or The Piano Guys if you prefer their cover)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Technically this is a songfic for Begin Again by The Piano Guys ft. Megan Nicole and Alex Goot. But the actual version was done by Taylor Swift. So which ever version you prefer!
> 
> Also: Pteropus Alecto-> Black Flying Fox Bat. Also known as Rhysand.

Today was a day for sweaters and tea and books on window seats.

For the first time in a while, I was alone in the apartment on a rainy day. Rhys was in the office today, taking care of some of the paperwork. I tended to work from home when I didn’t have meetings, like today, so I had our Brooklyn Brownstone to myself.

After digging out my favorite wool socks, some soft leggings, and one of Rhys’s large grey sweaters, I grabbed my current read off of my nightstand and made my way to the kitchen. I bustled around, making a cup of tea and eating a banana while it steeped.

Once I had my tea, I found a fleece blanket on the couch and dragged it over to the window seat that looked over the street of houses very like ours. Tucked into the windowseat, I plugged my headphones in and started to read.

A couple of hours later, I looked up from my book and stared out of the window sipping my now cold tea. My Pandora station changed songs and I let the lyrics wash over me.

_ Took a deep breath in the mirror _

_ He didn't like it when I wore high heels _

_ But I do _

Tamlin didn’t like it when I wore high heels. The clothes my stylist chose for me always had small, flat shoes that made my feet look dainty. They were always bright, pastel shades that I privately felt didn’t flatter my pale skin and bronzy brown hair. The colors washed out my grey eyes and made my freckles look childish. Not that it mattered, Tam always wanted me to cover my freckles and use makeup to give myself smooth, pale skin.

But the high heels thing. I asked him once, and he told me that “high heels were for whores and women who thought they needed to prove that they were as good as men.” After that, I kept my opinions to myself. I was just a poor country girl, what did I know of proper styles for the future wife of a wealthy investor? After my first couple of weeks with Tam in his house in Connecticut, he’d hired a stylist and personal shopper for me.

I hated it, but I loved Tam and my only other option was to go back to my middle of nowhere town in Virginia.

_ Turn the lock and put my headphones on _

_ He always said he didn't get this song _

_ But I do, I do _

“What are you listening to?” Tam asked me one day.

“Imagine Dragons,” I told him, showing him my phone screen.

Why do you even listen to that trash?” he scoffed, “I’ll buy you some good CDs when I go out today, love, then you can listen to some good music.

“Can I go with you?” I asked, knowing the answer but unable to stop asking, “we can go together and then go out to dinner. It would be like a date!”

“No.” Tamlin said sternly, “It’s not safe for you out there. There are muggers and rapists and robbers all over these streets trying to get people like us.”

“But you’d be with me, I wouldn’t be alone,” I argued.

“I. Said. NO,” he growled. I slumped in defeat. He walked out of the house.

When had my beloved Tam, who I’d met down at the beach and who had doted on me with every breath, turned into this frightening creature?

~~~~~~

Soon after this was the first time I snuck down to the city.

I had used my train pass and got a ticket to go to NYC. I couldn’t bear to be in the house anymore. I wandered down the streets and in and out of the little shops I encountered.

Finally, I found myself in a little coffeeshop, ordering a latte, and looking around for a seat. Unfortunately the only open seat was right next to a tall, dark and handsome business sort, and while I knew I was in for it anyway, coffee with a strange man would make it worse. And Tam would find out. He always finds out.

I was about to walk out when Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome waved me over.

“I don’t bite,” he said with a cheeky grin. I blushed so red that you could see it through my thick makeup. I took my mug and sat down gingerly in the seat.

“I’m Rhys,” the man said, “Rhysand Alecto.”

“I’m Feyre,” I replied quietly, “Feyre Archeron.”

“So is this your first time in the city?”

“Yes,” I explained, “I live in Connecticut.”

“What made you come here?”  _ Why do you care? _

“I needed some air,” I replied shortly. We continued to chat and I felt myself warming to the man. Why? Every human being on this planet made me anxious and afraid, except (especially) Tamlin and then suddenly I was so comfortable with this man? Who was he?

When I went to leave, he tried to give me a phone number.

“I can’t,” I said.

“I just want to be able to be there if you need someone,” Rhysand explained, “You look like you could use a friend.”

“No, no,” I replied, searching for words, “He’ll think the worst, he always does. He checks my phone. I can’t have some strange man’s number in my phone.” I knew I was babbling, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to know what happened if I had this stranger’s phone number. Rhysand put his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright” he replied, “Don’t worry. Well then, I’m here every day from 2-5. It gives me a break from the office. If you need anything, try to meet me here. Or if you just want a friend to talk to,” I nodded, suddenly afraid to leave.

“You don’t have to go back,” he said gently.

“Tam is all I have,” I blurted, then ran out of the cafe.

The day of freedom and joy was almost worth how horrible it was to come home that evening.

_ Walked in expecting you'd be late _

_ But you got here early and you stand and wave _

_ I walk to you _

_ You pull my chair out and help me in _

_ And you don't know how nice that is _

_ But I do _

It was a month before I could get back to the little coffee shop in Manhattan. It had been a horrible month, I’d been given a bodyguard who wouldn’t let me leave the property. It had been more difficult to leave the house than I’d imagined.

I got to the coffeeshop earlier this time. It was 1:30 and I didn’t expect him to be there.

But there he was, sitting at a table for four with a gorgeous blonde woman. I ignored the piece of my heart that sank when I saw it. Why did it matter to me anyway?

Suddenly, I heard my name.

“Feyre! Over here!” Rhysand called from across the shop, holding up a full mug. I smiled slightly and made my way over. He stood and pulled my chair out for me. I was both flattered and impressed. No one had ever pulled my chair out before.

“Feyre,” he said, “Meet my cousin Morrigan.” I smiled at her as well.

“Nice to meet you,” I told her.

“And it’s a pleasure to meet you as well!” she said, “I’ve gotta go though, I was just here to check in with Rhys. Have a nice day!” I waved at her slightly.

“It’s been a while,” Rhysand said after a moment of cataloguing my features. Had he seen?.. I looked down and fussed with the sleeves of my jacket, making sure the fading fingerprints on my wrist were covered.

“I’ve been… busy,” I said cagily. He raised an eyebrow, but let it slide.

~~~~~

It was another month before I saw him again.

I didn’t know what drew me to him. Maybe it was that instead of the fog I was now living in I actually felt something. Even though he annoyed me beyond all belief, it was nice to feel something. Maybe it was because behind the flirty, annoying exterior, he actually seemed concerned about me. Maybe it was because, for the first time in months, I felt like I could one day become a version of the girl that Tam had found painting at the beach. Like one day I could paint again.

But I continued letting him buy me coffee. I continued bantering with him. I continued trying to forget that when I went home I was going to be treated and punished like a disobedient child. I continued pretending that someone actually cared about me.

And, for some reason, I decided to memorize his phone number.

~~~~~

“Why are you wearing a scarf today, Feyre darling?” I didn’t know where or why I had become Feyre darling, but it either sounded endearing or annoying, depending on the day.

“I was cold,” I said shortly, trying not to think about what happened last night. About Tam’s hands wrapped around my neck and my head hitting the wall and then what he did to me in bed afterwards.

“In August?” Rhysand replied dryly.

“Yes,” I said stubbornly.

“Feyre,” he paused, “Feyre you don’t have to stay there.” I wondered why he always said that. Could he see through the fabric that I used to cover the bruises? The thick makeup that I’d always worn but now felt like a necessity?

“Rhysand..” I paused.

“Feyre,” he continued, “My friends call me Rhys. And I think at this point you’re friend enough to call me Rhys.” I nodded, looking down. I spun the intricate, too large gold band with its oversized diamond around on my left ring finger. I was supposed to be getting married tomorrow.

I was supposed to be in love.

If I was, it wasn’t with Tamlin. Not anymore.

_ And you throw your head back laughing like a little kid _

_ I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did _

_ I've been spending the last eight months _

_ Thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end _

_ But on a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again _

It was 1am on Sunday morning and I was lost in New York City after a disastrous day.

Hundreds of people had gathered to watch Connecticut’s most promising, most beloved, most eligible bachelor get married to a previously unknown country girl. I was dressed to show people what a southern belle was supposed to look like.

What I actually looked like was Scarlett O’Hara. The skirt of the dress was a massive, ruffled affair that made me look like one of those Barbie cakes you give to children where you make a giant round half sphere and stick the plastic doll in the cake before frosting it. The sleeves were so puffy I could see them in my periphery.

It was hideous. But Ianthe, Tamlin’s press secretary and my personal stylist, had told me that it was going to be best for Tamlin and I’s public images.

After I finally got to the end of the aisle, I couldn’t take more than a few steps. I stared at Tamlin, at the face I once loved, and realized that I couldn’t marry him. I realized that the bruises that Alys had so painstakingly covered in makeup today were proof that he didn’t love  _ me. _ He just loved the person he thought I was. That he wanted me to become.

I tried to walk. I tried to keep going. But I couldn’t.

So I ran.

I ran back down the aisle and down the street. Luckily, people were so shocked to see the beautiful, timid, blushing bride abandon her “dream wedding” that I had a head start. After my first couple of train passes had mysteriously disappeared, I had taken to hiding them at night and keeping them on me during the day. Today, it was tucked into one of my shaping garments that they used to try to make me look even more waifish than I had become.

I made my way through the thick woodland owned by Tamlin’s family that stretched for several miles and went across three roads. I couldn’t go to my normal train stop. A luckily caught shuttle got me close to the local airport, which had a different train stop close by. But I had to throw them off my trail.

So I entered the airport and hid in one of the massive bathrooms for three hours. During that time, I just cried. I had left the only person who had ever made me feel worthwhile because he stopped making me feel worthwhile. I may not love who he had become, but I had loved the person he was. The person who had given a lonely girl at the beach a summer of joy and love.

When I finally left the airport, after retrieving my train pass from my undergarments, it was nearing dusk. My makeup was melted in streaks down my face. I went to the train station and soon found myself in Manhattan yet again. I began to walk, trying to find the coffeeshop. It was the only place I could think to go. Rhys was the only one who I didn’t think would try to return me to Tamlin.

Unfortunately, I took exactly two wrong turns, and the next thing I knew I was in a part of the city I’d never seen. I walked for hours, just trying to find something familiar.

At 1am, I realized I just needed to find an open store to call from. I had to get in contact with Rhys.

After a lot more walking, I found a CVS drugstore that was open 24 hours a day.

“Excuse me,” I said to the clerk, whose eyes widened when she took in my dirty, bedraggled wedding dress, melted makeup, and clear bruises all over the visible parts of my body. “May I use your phone?” I asked quietly.

“There’s a $2,000 reward for your return to your fiance,” the girl finally said, “I wouldn’t usually consider it, especially with the state you’re in, but this job doesn’t really pay enough to live off of.” My eyes filled with tears again and I looked down. When I saw my hands, twisting each other in nervousness, I had a stroke of inspiration. I pulled off my engagement ring.

“Would this help?” I asked, holding it out to her.

“Is it real?” she asked dubiously.

“It came from the same people offering $2k for my return,” I told her, “If that’s fake, either they don’t value me enough to actually pay the money or they don’t actually have it to give you.” She seemed satisfied with that. I had another stroke of inspiration. “If you loan me a pen and some paper, I’ll handwrite a note saying that I gave you the ring of my own free will. Then no one can try to get you for stealing it or something.” The girl looked surprised, but pleased.

“Sure,” she said, handing me a slip of scrap paper and a pen.

I began to write, “I, Feyre Archeron, give this gold ring with one (1) large white diamond, three (3) small black diamonds, and three (3) small pink diamonds to-” I stopped.

“What’s your name?” I asked. She told me, and I added it to the note, signed and dated it, and handed it to her with the ring. She handed me the phone wordlessly after unlocking it.

Hands trembling with nerves and fear, I dialed the number I’d memorized so long ago. It picked up after one ring, and a tense, exhausted, yet familiar masculine voice answered.

“Rhysand Alecto.”

“Rhys, it’s Feyre,” I blurted, then burst into tears yet again.

“Oh thank God,” Rhys said, tension draining from his voice, “I saw what happened, it’s all over social media. I’ve been looking for you for hours.” I could feel the blood drain from my face, fear stopping my tears in their tracks.

“Please don’t send me back,” I choked out, “I’ll find a way to make up the cost of the reward to you, I’ll do anything, just please don’t send me back.”

“I would never!” he said, sounding shocked and moderately outraged, “and you don’t have to pay me back for anything at all. I’m just glad you left. Where are you?”

“I’m at a CVS somewhere,” I said in a wavery voice, “I borrowed the clerk’s phone.”

“That’s enough to work from,” he said darkly, “Morrigan will be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay,” I whispered, too relieved that I would be found at last to wonder  _ how _ he was going to find me.

“She’ll bring you back to my apartment,” Rhys said, “I’ve got several spare rooms. You’re welcome to one.”

“Thank you,” I replied, voice scratchy.  

When Mor showed up as promised, it was only the knowledge that she was illegally parked and couldn’t afford a parking ticket that dragged me out of there immediately rather than me crying on her shoulder for a while.

I was in a stupor for three days.

_ You said you never met one girl _

_ Who had as many James Taylor records as you _

_ But I do _

It was seeing Rhys for the first time since the Incident that pulled me out of my initial stupor. The pajamas that Mor had put me in were soft cotton pants and a matching short sleeved top. When he saw me, he had a horrified look on his face.

I couldn’t think why until I realized how my skin must look, he’d never seen it without a thick layer of makeup. And today it was covered in bruises, new and old. I had a black eye, and yellowing fingerprints on my neck. I was so used to my skin, so used to seeing the bruises and having them covered when people saw them, that I was unprepared for the shock and horror that Rhys displayed when he saw proof of what he’d been thinking for months. I looked down in embarrassment.

Looking around for a topic of conversation, I spied the large collection of vinyl located next to a turntable. Is that…

“James Taylor??” I asked, incredulously. Suddenly, Rhys was turning slightly pink. He just nodded. “I love James Taylor,” I said wistfully, “I missed my CDs when I left Virginia, I had every single one I could get my hands on.”

“Why did you leave them behind?” Rhys asked.

“He told me not to bring anything when I left, everything I wanted would be provided for me. But he didn’t like James Taylor, so somehow the new CDs I’d asked for eventually mysteriously never made it to me.” I looked away bitterly. Suddenly, a few moments later, my favorite James Taylor album began quietly filtering through the speakers. My lips curled up in a slight smile.

“Thank you, Rhys.”

And when I met his eyes, he knew I meant more than just the music.

_ We tell stories and you don't know why _

_ I'm coming off a little shy _

_ But I do _

Dinner that night was with Rhys and his family. His two ‘brothers’ who were his best friends, his cousin, and the highly frightening woman who no one knew where she came from exactly.

Cassian was loud and boisterous, a matching counterpoint to Mor. But he had a rugged, shaved lumberjack version of Rhys’s “Tall, dark, and handsome” thing happening. Azriel was his mirror: quiet, calculating, well groomed. They and Mor were a strange, well balanced triangle. Amren held herself apart on purpose. She had straight black hair that was chopped off harshly at her jawline, following its trail. She said very little aside from snarky, vaguely threatening remarks, but she watched with her strange silver eyes.

I didn’t engage much, simply watched and listened, allowing the corners of my lips to turn up slightly whenever Rhys looked at me, concerned.

_ But you throw your head back laughing like a little kid _

_ I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did _

“Whoo,” Cassian said suddenly, really looking at me for the first time, “Where’s the other guy?” The blood drained from my face and Rhys looked angry and opened his mouth. But before he could speak I just let the automatic response flow from my lips, surprising even me.

“Hospital,” I said sarcastically, “Be careful or you might be next.” Rhys just stared at me in shock before exploding into laughter. I smiled slightly again, just at him. At how his laugh just took up his whole body, how it brightened his violet eyes. He laughed so freely, like a child would. It was the first time I’d seen him truly at ease.

_ I've been spending the last eight months _

_ Thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end _

_ But on a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again _

Over the next three months, he helped me actively resist Tamlin’s endeavors to get me back. After I told him that I wanted to help him work with his technology company, he let me. He found something for me to do that only I could do. I became part of his team, his family.

Azrael was the cybersecurity specialist and IT manager. Cassian was physical security head. Mor was head of marketing, sales, and the HR department. Amren essentially ran the company as the president, Rhys was the CEO and also was the one who came up with all of the new ideas.

But he let me take over product design. If he, or anyone, had an idea, it went through me first. I would sit down and break the project down into its scope first, meeting with product designers and programmers, hardware specialists, and marketing specialists. At first, I would mostly bring up the basic concept and take copious notes as they talked it out among themselves. After a couple of weeks, I was able to provide valuable insight as I began to better understand my job. Rhys let me run meetings alone after the first month.

Rhys had seen in me what every single other person had missed, including myself: a gift of leadership. According to him, I was a natural leader, and my creative bent helped me in our particular field. He was teaching and training me both in management and general programming principles so that I could better understand what was and wasn’t possible.

Cassian had also taken it upon himself to train me. He was teaching me self defense and helping me strengthen my body. In the past couple of months I went from frighteningly waifish to glowing with health.

Thanks to these friends, this family, I had  _ life _ again. I was a person again. I hadn’t had this much happiness since that summer with Tamlin on the beach. Half of me wanted to drown in it. The other half waited for the ax to fall.

_ And we walked down the block to my car and I almost brought him up _

_ But you start to talk about the movies that your family _

_ Watches _

_ Every single Christmas and I want to talk about that _

_ And for the first time what's past is past _

One day, after work, Rhys walked me down the street to my car. I was perfectly comfortable with him now. I felt like I’d known him my whole life, it was a wonderful sensation that had been battling with the guilt I felt for our flirting friendship that I could, could  _ want _ to turn into something more.

However, the more time passed, the less I cared. The more I could cope. I’d mostly stopped flinching when the boys moved too quickly around me. Rhys’s friendly arm around my shoulder or a quiet hand squeeze over the tattoo I’d gotten on my left hand to match the ones that I’d seen dancing across his chest the night that I found him screaming in his room from a nightmare.

I had sold my engagement ring to a sales clerk. I had run out on my wedding. I had appeared on social media covered in bruises on my wedding day. Within two weeks of my wedding I had reappeared to the public, at Rhys’s side. I knew what they said about me. I knew what people thought. Rhys simply told me that he didn’t care, that the company image wouldn’t suffer from what the people saw. That as long as I didn’t care, he didn’t. I hadn’t loved Tamlin in months. I thought that what I had with him was love. But love didn’t destroy. Love wasn’t toxic like that. I didn’t love Tamlin and hadn’t.

I wondered what would happen if I said that to Rhys. But before I could find out, he spoke.

“When I was a kid, my sister and I had a tradition where we would watch Home Alone on Christmas Eve and eat homemade pizza with Mom. When Mom adopted Cass and Az, they joined in. Every year, to this day, we’ve all made a mess of the kitchen together, scraping together enough pizza for everyone amongst the disaster, and we watch the original Home Alone movie.” I smiled openly.

“That sounds wonderful,” I said wistfully.

“Well,” he said awkwardly, “You’d be more than welcome to stay with us for Christmas.” I stared at him for a moment, then grinned.

“Well that’s good,” I deadpanned, “As I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.” His face lit up. Christmas wasn’t too far off, but it was far enough off that I was clearly committing to some long term time in his house. “Unless,” I added, “You’re tired of tripping over me and my stuff. I’m sure that I could find myself a house nearby thanks to the clearly obscene salary you’re paying me.”

He’d given me a debit card and a PIN as soon as I’d started working for him, as well as issuing me two credit cards that I couldn’t bear to look at the credit limits on. I was most definitely wealthy enough to live in any part of Manhattan or the surrounding areas that I would want. I could feasibly buy a house down in the part of Connecticut that Tamlin had lived in if I wanted, but I didn’t.

“I’m always happy to have you around Feyre,” Rhys said, in one of his moments of seriousness that always took my breath away.

~~~~~~~

Three days later was the day Rhys was arrested for kidnapping me.

I had begged the officers to let him go, that I was perfectly fine and was with him of my own will. They had shrugged and simply told me that they couldn’t ignore the warrant, which had been issued by one of their higher ups. One kind officer told me that he’d ask Rhys his lawyer’s name so that I could contact him. I thanked him with a scratchy voice and told him that our friends would know who we should call.

Suddenly, another car pulled up, this one of a private security force. This one I recognised. Every drop of blood drained out of my face.

“No, no, no,” I shook my head.

“What’s wrong?” The officer asked, concerned. The car with Rhys in it had left already, but the nice officer had offered to drive me wherever I needed to go since I’d been walking with Rhys.

“Please don’t let them take me away,” I whispered. Suddenly his eyes lit up in understanding.

“Are you Feyre Archeron?” he asked. I nodded. “That explains a lot. My wife saw the social media coverage on you and told me to keep an eye out since I’m usually patrolling around your office. She told me about what the media reported. Was it true? Did he hurt you?” I nodded again, eyes wide in fear. He nodded back, supportive.

“What can I do for you gentlemen?” he asked as Captain Lucian and my two bodyguards got out of the car.

“This is the girl who was kidnapped, officer,” Lucian explained, looking like he believed it.

“Supposedly, yes,” the officer replied. Lucian’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m here to take her home,” Lucian said, “We know her very well and can take her back to where she belongs. Her Fiance has been extremely worried about her.” The officer looked suspiciously between Lucian and I. “Come on, Feyre,” Lucian coaxed, “Let’s go home.”

“That’s not home,” I said in a stronger voice than I thought I had, thinking of the soft warmth of the brownstone instead of the stark, cold, plantation-style manor house.

“Of course it is, Feyre,” Lucian encouraged, “You’re just having a little bit of Stockholm syndrome. Let’s get you back so that we can get you better.”

“I already am better,” I spat, “Better than living in that house with that controlling, abusive jerkwad you call friend and the secretary that he’s always making gooey eyes at.”

“Come on, Feyre,” Lucian was exasperated now, “You know as well as I do that all of this is just for attention. We get it, okay? You were feeling upset and abandoned, so you acted out. We’ll make sure we spend more time with you or something.”

“I am not a child,” I hissed.

“Feyre-”

“Sir,” the officer interrupted, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave Ms. Archeron alone. She doesn’t want to go with you and she is under no obligation to do so.”

“I beg to differ, officer,” Lucian said flatly, “She belongs to Tamlin and his family. She needs to get home so that we can treat this obvious case of Stockholm Syndrome.”

“Well,” the officer said, “If you’re so convinced that it’s just Stockholm, then you won’t mind if I take her to the hospital to have her psychologically evaluated. If she’s got something that bad, she needs to be in a psychiatric hospital. If not, you’re harassing an innocent woman and you need to leave her be.”

“Alright,” Lucian said, “Well if you’d just follow us, we can lead you to the hospital that the Springer family trusts.” The officer looked suspicious.

“Son,” he said to Lucian, “I’m still on duty. It’s part of my job to take people to the hospital in these situations, but you don’t get to pick and choose the hospital. We’re going to the closest.” Lucian looked like he wanted to either argue or fight his way through the cop to me. Instead he simply nodded his head before he jerked it towards the car.

“Come on, Feyre,” he said.

“I’d feel more comfortable riding in the police car,” I said quietly. Lucian rolled his eyes as the officer helped me into the passenger seat.

“Sorry about his,” the officer said as we got on the road, “It was the only way I could have kept him from taking you on the spot.”

“I understand,” I told him. It was a logical step really. “Sir,” I began, “May I make a phone call? I need to alert Rhys’s cousin of what’s happening.” The officer nodded. I quickly dialed Mor on the cell phone that Rhys had given me and explained the situation to her. She promised that she and Amren would take care of Rhys, and that Azriel and Cassian would meet me at the hospital for protection.

They were the first people I saw when we arrived at the hospital.

“You ok, sis?” Cassian asked, concerned. I nodded, my heart in my mouth as Lucian followed us into the hospital.

Where I saw Tamlin standing at the desk yelling at the very annoyed secretary. From the expression on Azriel’s face, I must have been chalk white. The officer looked concerned. Cass put a hand on my shoulder in support. Then Tamlin turned around.

“Feyre! I’m so glad you’re safe!” It took all I had to not reply to him. All I had to keep the shakes in my body from becoming visible. Suddenly he took in my escort. “What’s all this?” he asked, a tone of coldness appearing in his voice.

“Hello, Mr. Springer,” the officer said, matching him tone for tone, “My name is Officer Andrews. I was part of the team who arrested Rhysand Alecto on his kidnapping charges. I saw that taking away the lady’s escort would leave her in Midtown alone, so I was about to offer to drive her home when your.. Team pulled up.”

“Thank you for taking care of my Fiancee, officer,” he said imperiously, “Your dedication to your work is noticed and appreciated. But you aren’t needed at the moment, unless you wish to remove these two brutes who helped imprison her.”

“Hmm,” Andrews said dryly, “Interestingly enough, Ms. Archeron did not seem eager to go with your people. She seems perfectly comfortable with these two gentlemen though, I don’t see the need to remove them. And she told me that she hadn’t been kidnapped at all. If so, then your charges against Mr. Alecto are false.”

“She has Stockholm Syndrome, sir,” Tamlin replied, “It’s very obvious to those of us who know her.”

“Regardless,” Andrews said, “I don’t care to leave people where they feel unsafe, so it seemed like the best option was to have her psychiatrically evaluated for Stockholm. If the doctors here don’t see Stockholm, I believe that it would be in your best interests to leave her alone.” Tamlin’s face darkened, but before he could speak, a nurse in a purple, flower patterned scrub top appeared to take me into the back.

“Hello, dear,” she said quietly, “We’re going to do your vitals, okay?” I nodded. She went through the motions of taking all of my vitals. Out of the calming presence of my two friends, I began to shake again. “Your pulse is very high,” the nurse told me.

“S-s-sorry,” I stuttered, crossing my arms over my chest, holding myself together as best as I could.

Thirty minutes later, I was in a comfortable office, sitting in a soft loveseat as the doctor sat in a chair across the room.

“Feyre,” the doctor said gently, “When did you first meet Mr. Alecto?”

“I ran away from my now ex-boyfriend’s house in Connecticut one day because I wanted to go visit something off his land. I wandered around Manhattan for a while before ending up in a coffee shop. The only seat left was near him, and I would have left if he hadn’t invited me to sit there. We spoke about small things, his work, and my day in the city, and he wanted to be able to be friends with me. I told him that my ex would be angry if I had a strange guy’s number in my phone, even if I was just friends with him. So he just told me that if I needed anything I could ask him.” I explained to the doctor how I’d continued to visit Rhys at the cafe and how he was able to temporarily stop the grey fog that was most of my existence. I told the man about my wedding day, and how I couldn’t do it. I’d been terrified.”

“Why were you terrified?” he asked.

“Because…” I stopped, then took the plunge, “Because when he was mad at me, Tamlin hurt me. I used to wear caked up makeup so that people couldn’t see all the bruises. Being friends with Rhys and his cousin Morrigan gave me a better view on what it looked like when people cared. If friends cared about my physical wellbeing, how much more should my Fiance?” The doctor nodded. “I realized that Tamlin didn’t love me as a person, I was just another tidy piece in the pretty puzzle that made up his ‘perfect’ life.”

I looked down, and then I explained to him how I’d run around New York City the day of my wedding, trying to find the coffeeshop where Rhys was, knowing that he’d help me without sending me back. I told him how I’d sold my engagement ring to the CVS clerk who couldn’t have financially afforded to let me go otherwise.

“How did you feel when the police came and took Rhysand?”

“Afraid,” I told him after a moment, “I didn’t want him to get in trouble on my behalf, I didn’t know that would happen.”

“What about when Officer Andrews stayed with you?”

“Relief,” I said promptly, “I don’t like being alone in the city if I can avoid it, and I was, and am, really worried about Rhys. He was wonderfully helpful.” After a few moments, the doctor started scribbling.

“Alright,” he told me, “As I suspected, the only mental and emotional distress you’re in is due to Mr. Springer’s reappearance in your life. Getting him out of here is going to be very difficult, so we need to come up with a way to keep him away from you until I can get this information to the investigators on Mr. Alecto’s case.” I nodded.

“Mor told me once about a cabin their family has up in upstate,” I mentioned, “I’m going to call her. If she’s not in the main waiting area, I could probably leave.” The doctor simply nodded and handed me some discharge papers. I signed everything, took my copies, and called Mor.

“Mor?” I whispered, “Don’t speak yet, I need your help. If you’re not down in the main hospital waiting room with Cass and Azriel, you need to meet me on top of the parking garage with a car. I need to hide somewhere until they can get Rhys out and cleared.”

“Alright, sounds good,” was all she said.

She was there, and she drove me upstate, as I expected. She stopped in a grocery store and stocked up on easy to prepare food, and left me there safely.

After a few hours, I got bored, and eventually discovered the paints in the closet.

~~~~~~

A week later, I heard a knock on the door. I opened it, expecting Mor with more non-news.

It was Rhys. I stared at him in shock for a few moments. He looked at me awkwardly, opening his mouth to speak but I stopped him before he could. I threw myself at him, hugging him tightly, getting wet paint all over his jeans and black tee shirt.

“You’re okay,” I said. He looked floored.

“I was so worried about you,” he said, gently putting his arms around me and stepping inside the cabin.

After several cups of hot cocoa, three each having a shot of Irish Cream in them, and a split can of soup, we had both said what we’d been dancing around for so so long.

_ 'Cause you throw your head back laughing like a little kid _

_ I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did _

_ I've been spending the last eight months _

_ Thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end _

_ But on a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again _

The sound of the door opening jerked me from my contemplation of the past. I looked at the delicate white gold wedding band on my left ring finger and smiled as I looked up to see my husband enter our apartment.

“Hello Feyre, darling, I’m home.”

_ But on a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again _

 


End file.
